


All along there was some invisible string tying you to me

by grimeysociety



Series: And though I can't recall your face [7]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies), WandaVision (TV)
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, First Time, ShieldShock - Freeform, WandaVision spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-08
Updated: 2021-03-08
Packaged: 2021-03-14 05:07:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,090
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29911866
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grimeysociety/pseuds/grimeysociety
Summary: The aftermath of the Hex.
Relationships: Darcy Lewis/Steve Rogers
Series: And though I can't recall your face [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2146821
Comments: 48
Kudos: 222





	All along there was some invisible string tying you to me

**Author's Note:**

> feeling a little like Wanda pouring her literal soul out to make Vision out of love, fyi
> 
> it's super unlikely I'll ever get over these two

She’d never had this with anyone before. The order of things were switched around. She was timid around him, compared to all others before. It didn’t feel unnatural. She wasn’t afraid. She was refreshingly fine with the pace of things, and he was exactly the same. Their connection was undeniable. She didn’t find herself over-explaining, telling her life story. He picked up on things faster than most. He was adaptable, and Darcy recognized herself in him - he was a natural when it came to making friends. 

She didn’t know how to tell their story if she ever intended to. She supposed Jane would know at some point, that this was all unintentionally orchestrated through mutual friends. Her only defense was that he was him, and she was her, and it fit together. 

-

She ditched the car and walked back with Steve to his, and then they drove out of the county as the curtain of night came over the landscape. They got a small hotel room, one with a single double-bed. Steve murmured something about sleeping on the couch and Darcy didn’t argue with him. She wanted to sleep, above all things. Her exhaustion had set into the marrow of her. But first, they went to a Walmart and got her some clothes and toiletries, replacing a few things she’d left behind with SWORD. 

He parked himself on the couch as she went to shower, scrubbing makeup off, finally able to loosen herself from the tightly-wound confines of her armor. It was easier to deal with assholes when she wore her usual uniform of eyeliner, bold red lip and glasses. Now, she was rubbed raw and immediately slumped under the hot water. She slipped into bed with barely any acknowledgment of Steve, and then slept for twelve hours.

-

She woke with a start, the remnants of a dream causing her to believe she might not have got out of Westview. She thought it was all so convenient that Steve was there, and her departure might have also been too easy. The hotel room was modern enough, she surmised, and she had to trust it was all real when she lifted herself up to rest on her elbows, seeing Steve was sitting on the couch, dressed and drinking coffee from a little white cup. 

His eyes were steady, warm and taking her in when Darcy slipped her glasses on to look at him properly. 

“You want coffee?” 

It was simple. Simpler than anything she’d ever had, and yet she knew nothing about this had been easy to get to. She’d thought until yesterday that she might die. A part of her was still expecting to. 

“I think I need to run some tests,” she said, partway through her first cup of coffee. “Blood work, maybe some scans to see if anything might be altered. Monica had hers done, but she went through twice.”

“Did you wanna borrow a lab?” Steve said, and she glanced his way, their eyes meeting. 

She’d been staring at the TV but wasn’t taking anything in. She didn’t know when that would be a normal thing again. She was already finding herself searching for familiar faces among the cast of _I Dream of Jeannie_ , but Barbara Eden was the only heroine. 

“Yeah,” she murmured, replacing her cup on the bedside table. “You got one spare somewhere?”

She couldn’t help herself, and she supposed it was a sign. She had to be herself around him, her compulsion was stronger than any attraction she had. She’d been self-conscious when she remembered he’d never seen her face when they met in the clearing yesterday, but that feeling had long evaporated. She knew this connection with Steve was stronger than him finding her appealing, and she was beginning to believe no illusions were shattered for him. 

She also knew that Steve wasn’t the type of person to only care for a random woman he’d spoken to on the phone because he saw something transactional about it. 

“The one at the Avengers compound is out of commission, currently,” he said, rubbing his nose with a finger. He gave another little smile. “But if you can stand San Francisco-”

“Who do you know out in California?” Darcy cut in. “Is that where the Falcon is?”

“Sam’s in Atlanta,” Steve said, as if she was also on a first name basis with this friend of his. “I’m talking about Hank Pym and his daughter Hope. And Scott Lang. They were there when Tony…”

He trailed off, eyes shifting to his cup. He cleared his throat.

“Anyway, it’s just an idea.”

“You’d go with me to California? Escort me there yourself?” Darcy said. 

His eyes swung back up to meet hers, the half-smile back. His eyelashes were longer than any photo did him justice, she noted, watching him watch her intently. Her hands were together in her lap as she sat up in bed. 

“If you let me,” he said on exhale. 

Darcy grinned. 

-

The first time he kissed her was the following day, helping her up the steps to a private jet he’d arranged. He moved his head down to meet hers, the sun warming Darcy’s face, the air whipping her hair behind her. She thought her lips might be too dry that morning, but rejoiced that she’d bought Carmex in her rush at Walmart. 

Her lip fitted between his two and they slotted together, Darcy’s eyes closing, the kiss itself almost innocent, Steve’s hand gripping hers. When they broke apart, his eyes had a different shine to them. The inevitability of the kiss only made Darcy lift her chin at him, a smirk forming on her lips. 

“Very unprofessional,” she murmured. 

“Absolutely,” Steve said, with a mock-frown. “Won’t happen again.”

-

They went to a diner a few blocks away from Scott’s house. The tests Darcy had done with Hank concluded that her DNA had not significantly changed like Monica’s had. She wrote a couple emails to her colleagues at Culver about taking some time off, only to have the replies be accusatory, that she was only using PTO as a smokescreen for something bigger, and they weren’t wrong, not that Darcy would ever tell them the real reason. Sure, she was addicted to following a lead if an anomaly occurred, but this was actually her personal life for once taking the front seat. 

Steve didn’t ask her to do any of it, and she didn’t demand he tell her what his plans were. These questions were only answered when they met in the middle, like at the table they sat at that night. 

“I think I’ll get the brioche french toast,” she murmured, shoving the laminated menu aside. She hadn’t had breakfast for dinner in a while.

“I can’t remember the last time I was on a date,” Steve murmured, and Darcy looked up at him, their eyes locking. 

“This was a good spot to pick,” Darcy said, and he smiled.

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

He ordered a steak, pushing the plate closer toward the middle for Darcy to take his fries when she desired. 

At one point, Steve leaned his elbow on the table, mirroring Darcy, who’d propped her chin up on one hand. 

“Clean bill of health,” he murmured. 

Darcy gave a little smile he copied, a relief between them they hadn’t said aloud. For now, she put aside her fork, the metal clinking against her plate, before she reached for Steve’s spare hand. He gripped her tight, his jaw ticking as he thought something over, putting it away a breath later.

“Sam has the shield now?” Darcy said. He’d mentioned Sam Wilson visiting family, having undergone training with Bucky. 

There was something else they hadn’t fully discussed. Steve’s unwavering loyalty to his friends meant all that Darcy had told him, and all that SWORD had done, could not be ignored. As compelled as she was to stick by him, Darcy did not know altogether where his mind was at. In between getting her blood drawn and making sure her DNA hadn’t been literally rewritten as a consequence of the Hex, she’d promised herself to talk to Steve. 

“Yeah,” he murmured. “I’m retired.”

“I don’t believe that,” Darcy said, narrowing her eyes, her lips curling. “You, lying on a hammock, out back somewhere?”

“I ordered one, but it hasn’t come yet,” he countered. “Didn’t splurge on express shipping.”

“You’re gonna try to find Wanda,” she said. 

A beat, and he blinked. “Yeah. But you knew that. And you’re not gonna go back to academic tenure, not when the Hex makes everything else… ennui.”

He rolled his lip between his teeth, Darcy lifting her brows. They were still holding hands.

“Ennui?” she repeated. “That’s a big word.”

“It’s seven letters,” Steve retorted. 

There it was, him reading her, being her mirror. She ran toward the fight, and so had he, for years and years. He did it out of his own self-sacrificing, steadfast honor. She’d thought wrongly that maybe she was different.

“I’m an astrophysicist, nothing about my life is boring.”

“You saw magic,” Steve said. 

“You stumbled toward a galactic army coming over the horizon only weeks ago,” Darcy said. “And you _stood_ there, knowing you’d die-”

“You ran toward Vision, and he didn’t even know your name,” Steve cut in, and Darcy closed her eyes, feeling they’d begun to sting. 

She sighed, blinking away her tears, eyes averting to their joined hands.

“I don’t even know why we’re talking about this,” she whispered.

The background of the diner slowly began to come back to her, the neighboring tables and the bustling workers, the smells of the food, the laughter of children. For five years, she’d rarely ever heard that unadulterated sound. 

“I’m not fighting this,” Darcy said, her eyes moving back to Steve’s face. “I don’t think I ever stood a chance, if I’m honest. Which is, like… really weird for me to even think.” 

Steve gave a breath of a laugh. “Yeah. And I lied. I know how long it’s been since I was on a date.”

Darcy leaned over then, pressing a kiss to his lips, a soft smack as she pulled back almost instantly. 

“You want more coffee?” Steve murmured, and she shook her head.

-

He’d been that man before. He’d had no home for two years when he was on the run from General Ross after the Sokovia Accords were cemented. Darcy knew that in the flurry of authorities cleaning up Westview she might be forgotten about, but she also knew that eventually someone would come knocking, asking questions. She could write whole articles about what she’d found, research the Hex and maybe win some prizes for it, have her name on a wall somewhere grand. It wasn’t her style, so she was more than okay to follow Steve out of San Francisco, all the way back to Greenwich Village. 

“Steve Rogers,” Stephen Strange said, appearing at the bottom of the staircase, once Wong let them in. “Would this have something to do with your Sokovian friend?”

“Why weren’t you there?” Darcy butted in, all three men turning their attention toward her. 

She liked the look she saw on Steve’s face in the corner of her eye - there was a hint of pride there, his brows lifting, his handsome face unable to stay neutral. 

“Excuse me?” Strange retorted. 

“An anomaly of that scale, that level of CMBR, and you were nowhere to be seen? Why didn’t you stop that from happening?” Darcy said. 

“And your name is?” 

“Darcy Lewis, I was there,” she said, folding her arms. She looked at Wong. “You have a really lovely house, by the way.”

Strange’s nose scrunched. “There are cosmic obligations beyond the Garden State. Did you come all this way to ask me why I wasn’t doing my job?”

“I’m figuring out whether Wanda Maximoff’s magic was strong enough to stop _you_ -” Darcy said, pointing at Strange, then Steve. “-though _he_ says you’re the best at this stuff.”

“This… stuff,” Strange repeated.

“It’s been a long month,” Darcy said. “I also know Thor.”

Strange rolled his eyes and sighed. Wong’s brows lifted. Steve spoke for the first time.

“We just wanna help her. Wanda. She’s been through a lot.”

“I’m aware of her power,” Strange said, seeming to let go of some of the tension he was carrying. “She has the ability to tear the fabric of reality apart.”

-

They spent less than an hour at the Sanctum Sanctorum, Darcy wandering through each room as if it was a museum. Some doors didn’t open. She managed to slip out of sight when Strange began to grill Steve about his plans to find Wanda. 

“Is there a bathroom-?” she said to Wong, and Strange put up a finger to point up the stairs without looking at her, clearly annoyed by her presence. 

She found a glass case filled with skulls and stepped backward suddenly, bumping a globe. She caught it before it could fall to the floor, noticing there were constellations, not a map of the world spread around it. 

“Please do not touch anything,” called a voice, and Darcy’s shoulders met her ears. 

“Uh, yeah! Sorry,” she said. 

Strange stepped out of a portal that appeared beside her. Darcy knew it was meant to be impressive, but instead she only folded her arms, narrowing her eyes at him. 

“How often do you guys actually use the stairs?” 

“Not often,” Strange retorted. “They’re usually for guests. Not that we have many.”

“I know we’re not supposed to be here-”

“It happens,” Strange replied smoothly. “And your Captain was wondering where you disappeared to.”

Darcy thought about some snarky retort, maybe throwing in a navy pun or two, but she let his sentence hang there, pressing her lips together.

“You were here after Thanos used the Stones?” he asked, and Darcy nodded. “I… suppose I should thank you for managing to keep the world somewhat intact while we were gone.”

Darcy sensed his attempt at an olive branch. 

“I got my doctorate. Then everyone came back and…”

She drew in a breath, her eyes moving around the room, seeing the different iconography and ancient treasures. Her eyes fell to a suit of armor. 

“I may need you, at some point,” Strange said, his voice breaking through her reverie. “Considering you have firsthand knowledge of Maximoff’s scope of powers, real-person experience.”

“You two both fought on the same side,” Darcy said, tilting her head. 

“We don’t exactly write each other newsletters,” Strange deadpanned. “And there’s a lot of us out there now.”

She thought of Steve and the original Avengers, the six of them against Loki and the Chitauri army over ten years ago. The universe was simultaneously larger and staggeringly small. She gave a short shrug.

“I no longer have the Time stone to protect,” he added, and Darcy’s eyes snapped to his. “There are other ways of knowing exactly what will take place, but it’s safe to say -”

“We’re fucked,” Darcy said, and he shrugged. 

“In many ways, yes,” he said. “Wherever Maximoff is, she’s in possession of powers beyond her comprehension.”

-

They reached Jefferson Market Garden and Darcy sat on a bench, Steve’s hand reaching to squeeze her shoulders.

“So she’s gone,” she murmured. “And… and we’re supposed to sit back and let Stephen fix it all? If he can?”

“He said an ancient tome had been missing for years. I’m guessing Wanda would be going after that, to learn more about chaos magic,” Steve said. 

There was hardly anyone around, but Darcy kept noticing the strangers in the street, all of them blissfully unaware of the state of things, how precarious existence may be for a long, long time. 

“She isolates herself a lot,” Darcy murmured. She leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees, rubbing her hands together. 

Steve’s hands dug into the pockets of his jacket and he nodded, a shadow crossing over his face. He drew in a breath.

“She lost Vision. Again,” he murmured. “I don’t blame her.”

“Neither do I, honestly,” Darcy said. “But the shame she must be feeling, and the confusion… I mean, I still have so many questions, and I was there for it all. I was the one that found the broadcast.”

“So, you’ve got a paper or ten to write,” Steve said, and she glanced up at him, seeing he was smirking. “What am I gonna do?”

“Stand around and look pretty?”

He ducked his head, shaking it. “I don’t know where to start.”

Darcy had felt this way many times before. In the aftermath of New Mexico and then London, she always spent the next few days in a stupor. She’d barely shower, she’d give away possessions. Food even tasted different. This time with Steve, she felt more in control, and she knew that meant something, if any of it was meant to make sense at all.

“Where’s your place, out here?” she asked.

“You wanna see my place?” he said, and she nodded.

“The world’s gonna end, we can’t do anything about it right now,” she murmured. “So let’s watch TV and wait.”

-

Steve’s place was exactly as she expected it to be. It was peppered with vintage things like a little vinyl collection and a record player in his living room. His bookshelf was small but teeming with mid-century paperbacks. He had one picture of his mother in a frame. 

His furniture was modern, and looked brand new. His TV was flat and sat against the wall, but it was covered in dust when Darcy first walked in. 

She sat on the couch, Steve doing the same, his arm resting behind her head. Darcy had the remote in her hand. She flipped through until she found an episode of The Addams Family, settling into her seat as the characters filled the silence between them. 

She felt a little better, safer in this room with him, his own little space in the world. Her bag was on the floor by the front door. Her coat was hanging next to his jacket. 

She shifted, her eyes slipping away from the screen, hearing the canned laughter, Steve’s soft chuckle accompanying it. She slowly, carefully let herself glance his way, staring at the side of his face. She could see the shapes of the people on screen reflected in his eyes. He had a little smile playing on his lips. 

After a minute of her watching him, he looked down, searching her.

Darcy lifted a hand to cup his cheek, pulling him into a kiss. She tilted her head, Steve’s arm coming down to wrap around her waist, pulling in a deep breath as Darcy sighed. It was all so quiet, slow and tender, enough to make her heart squeeze in her chest, her stomach fluttering in anticipation. She was excited, but the pace made her believe, like everything else that came with Steve, that this was inevitable. It was like home, feeling his tongue nudge the seam of her lips before she let him in, both of them sighing now, Darcy clutching his face. 

Slow and searing, Steve pulled back, nuzzling her nose.

“I should take my glasses off, they’re getting foggy,” Darcy whispered, and they smiled at one another, lips bumping. 

She took them off, placing them on the coffee table, Steve watching her. 

“You always look at me like that,” she whispered.

“Like what?”

“I dunno,” she whispered.

“You’re beautiful,” he said, and he pulled her back into his arms, kissing her harder, hands slipping down to her waist. 

They broke apart for Darcy to step away, tugging Steve along with her. She led him down his hallway, finding the bedroom, keeping the door open as she turned to him, standing on tip-toe to reach him as he kissed her again, holding her face in his hands. 

She thought she was too old to have this happen again, the rush of a new love, the giddiness that came with touching them for the first time. She thought all that had passed by over the last five years. The dates she went on were half-hearted, both parties guilty of a justified cynicism. 

With Steve, she knew she was willing to be foolish again.

He settled her on the blankets, their clothes stripped off and in piles together on the hardwood floors, Steve’s kisses trailing down her chest and soft tummy, his eyes meeting hers as he pushed her legs further apart, fingers brushing her inner thigh.

She nodded, holding her breath before he dove in, kissing and licking at the cut of her. She sucked in a breath, a shaky laugh falling from her lips, knowing he’d already made her wet from kissing her with that hunger earlier. She was melting on his mouth, Steve’s tongue mapping out every inch of her, his soft groans punctuating each moan Darcy couldn’t keep inside. Her fingers dug into his hair and gripped him tight to anchor her to the bed, to keep her mind from wandering too much, not that she needed to worry. All sensations became a pinpoint between her legs, her breaths turning ragged, the edges of her vision darkening as Steve led her to her edge.

Her back arched off the bed and Darcy cried out, a desperate whimper as the pleasure ran through her, warming her from the top of her head to the tips of her tingling toes, her whole body shuddering. 

“Holy shit,” she whispered, covering her reddened face with her hands. She panted, falling back, Steve’s lips pressing to her pubic hair, his warm breath still on her, Darcy’s legs slumping, her chest heaving as she recovered. The quiet stretched further, Steve leaning against her, Darcy’s hands in his hair again, stroking it.

“Hey,” she whispered. “Come here, honey. Come here...”

He complied, wiping his mouth on his bare shoulder, climbing up. Looming over her, he pushed the hair from her face, moving down to settle in the cradle of her hips, giving her a slow kiss that grew greedy, Darcy’s mind still reeling from all he’d given her already.

“I want you so much,” she whispered, and he pulled back.

“You got no idea, sweetheart…”

Darcy wrapped a hand around his shaft, Steve sucking in a breath. 

“I mean, I might have some idea,” she whispered. 

They fell silent when he brushed against her, Darcy angling her hips just so, holding her breath again, their eyes locked. Steve groaned when he pushed inside, sliding home after a couple short thrusts.

They went still, Darcy gripping him in earnest, feeling so full she couldn’t keep a single sound inside her anymore. Steve kissed her, thoroughly, his hips finally beginning to grind. 

It felt better than she imagined. Steve’s mouth fell open as he moved a little faster, his eyes shutting for a few seconds.

“Fuck…”

Darcy brought him down in a crushing kiss, something finally snapping inside Steve, and he let her have it, pushing back and forth, dragging across a spot deep inside that made her shiver. They lay chest to chest, and they couldn’t be closer. 

He pulled back a little, staring down at her, stroking her face, hips slowing. 

“I want you to come,” she whispered, lifting herself to kiss him. “I want to make you come, Steve…”

She pushed against his chest, Steve following her cue, pulling out to settle on his back. Darcy climbed into his lap, Steve drawing his knees up as she was filled to the brim once more, the new angle impossibly deep. He wrapped his arms around her, cuddling her close, like it was an embrace and not him fucking her in earnest, his moaning lips at her ear. 

The intimacy of it made her eyes water, pulling him into another kiss, her eyes burning as she sucked on his tongue. 

He went still, twitching inside her.

“Ah, _fuck_ …”

With their foreheads pressed together, the room swaying around Darcy, she breathed with him.

-

Darcy jolted awake, the room dark around her. She took a few seconds to remember where she was, afraid that what she felt around her wrist was metal.

They were Steve’s long fingers, keeping her close. He was spooning her, his nose buried in her neck, Darcy giving a little sigh of relief.

“You okay?” he murmured. 

She rolled over, seeing the glint of his eyes in the semi-dark. 

“Yeah, are you?”

“Yeah,” he whispered. His thumb brushed her cheekbone as he swallowed. “I’m right where I’m supposed to be.”

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for indulging my journey, I love you
> 
> [my Tumblr](http://grimeysociety.tumblr.com/)


End file.
